


Fallen

by MissMorgan



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Slow Burn, Smut, probably not that slow though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-29 06:09:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19824145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissMorgan/pseuds/MissMorgan
Summary: Azrael had served God as the Angel of Death for millennia. But when He learnt of her meddling in human lives, He had no choice but to cast her out.She had visited the Seeds throughout their lives when they faced death. But one man in particular saw her more than one person ever should in a lifetime. Fallen from grace, Azrael will do anything to ensure the Seed family survives the Collapse and makes it into Eden's Gate, now that she has been cast out from Heaven.But with mortal life comes mortal feelings, most of which she doesn't understand. And one irresistible Seed, who literally owes his life to her, will help her come to terms with these feelings.





	Fallen

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is a little project I've been thinking about for a while now, and have decided to start writing. Go ahead and leave comments/kudos and I'll update when I can!
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

To most angels, mortal life seemed meaningless. Pitifully short. What difference could one human life make to the world? Angels had lived through millennia of heroes and villains constantly fighting. Back and forth, back and forth. But was there ever a winner? And who were the real heroes? Questions like these puzzled angels, but they were never anything to trouble themselves about for too long. Humans lived, and then they died. The angels looked down upon the world and watched with indignation as people wasted their lives, allowing their sins to devour them. And where did their sins lead them? The world was rapidly losing faith, humankind hurtling towards destruction by their own doing, and yet they did nothing to stop it. Further still, He did nothing to stop it. In fact, He encouraged the destruction. The world was teetering on the brink of the Collapse. He prepared His faithful few. As for the others? Well, mortal life seemed meaningless.

But not all angels shared this view on the inhabitants of the world below. Azrael, for one, enjoyed watching them. It was her job, after all. As the Angel of Death, she came to value human life far more than her brothers and sisters. Perhaps valued it even more than He did. She didn’t take joy in watching their unfortunately short lives come to an end, but knowing she could ease their passing to the afterlife gave her job meaning. If she wasn’t there to guide souls to their end, and into their new beginning, they simply got lost. Needless to say, she took her role very seriously. 

But when she came across one soul, she couldn’t let him perish. She had watched over him all his life – you wouldn’t believe how many times he should have died. Especially as a baby. His parents would leave him alone all day. It broke her heart to see a child live like this, but his bright blue eyes held so much hope, and she could not be the one to take that away from him, to snuff that flickering light of hope within him. Perhaps she should have, though. She didn’t think there could be worse parents in the world than those though left him there, alone, crying in his cot. But she was wrong. Apparently, some humans took pleasure in abusing their children, moulding them into some twisted distortion of the person they used to be. And it certainly didn’t get better in adulthood. Keeping him alive had become a full-time job to Azrael. She’d protected him for this long, she was determined to carry on. Even through his addictions and his carelessness, those blue eyes still carried a tiny spark of hope. Eventually, he found peace, safety, security. Family. And in this, Azrael could finally rest.

Except there was no rest where she was heading.

Her time as the Angel of Death brought her pain, regret, guilt. But one thing she never was, was alone. With a blinding flash of light and a searing pain burning across her back, she found herself leaning against a tree. Frantic, scared, a mixture of emotions she was unfamiliar with, and very much alone. The pain she felt was gone, but there was a very evident dull ache across her back.

Her wings. They’d been cut off.

That was her punishment. For distracting herself with one soul, meddling in human affairs, and disregarding the many souls she was supposed to guide to heaven and hell, now lost. She had fallen, that much was clear. Her wings had been carelessly cut from her body, and she had been thrown down into the mortal world. She felt so weak, fragile. Lonely.

And where on earth was she?

She looked around, searching for anything to give her any clue to her location. She had travelled a lot through her existence, exploring hidden corners of the world and watching civilisations develop and rise and fall. There was an odd sense of familiarity about where she stood. However, everywhere felt oddly familiar to her, so that didn’t help. She followed a beaten trail through the trees, hoping to find something, someone. Moonlight shone down, lighting her way forward, the bright light unobscured by clouds in the sky, only broken by the imposing trees that towered over the small fallen angel.

She almost looked a like a phantom, ghosting between the trees towards a glowing light in the distance. At least He has been kind enough to send her down here fully dressed. A mid length, black dress, mimicking her usual dark cloak, blew around her in the gentle evening breeze. Her hair, long and thick, pulled into a delicate braid, was just as black as her attire, a stark contrast to her pale skin. She still appeared angelic, despite her apparent fall from grace. 

The treeline eventually broke to reveal a small gathering of buildings, surrounded by enormous fences topped with barbed wire. Not the most inviting of scenes, but right now, Azrael was too alone to care. Further down the path, where the lights shone brightest, stood a quaint, beautiful church. _A church_ , Azrael thought to herself, and rolled her eyes, _of course it’s a church_. She looked up to where she knew He was watching and sighed, before taking slow footsteps forward. The compound seemed abandoned, but the doors of the church were open slightly. She felt compelled to enter. If there was anywhere she should feel welcome, it would be in the house of God. _Are those who are cast out even welcome inside a place of worship to the one who threw you aside?_

Gently, with a caution she had never known before, Azrael pushed one of the doors open further, silently entering the church and feeling relief to see four figures huddled together at the front. One of the men was sat on the floor, shirtless, holding his head in his hands. Azrael could conclude he was in pain. She’d seen enough of it in her existence. A petite woman, slender in figure, sat beside him, a hand on his shoulder, an attempt to comfort him. Two men stood in front of them, preventing her from getting a good look at them all. One was tall, muscular, imposing. The other, slightly shorter, with a lean figure, dressed in a long trench coat than reminded her fondly of her old cloak. Her soft footsteps allowed her to quietly approach them without them noticing her just yet.

“They’ll want to know why you cut the sermon short, Joseph.”

“I heard the voice again, Faith. Someone is coming to us.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know, Jacob. Pass me that water?”

The muscular one walked to the side to retrieve a glass for the one sat in pain, and as he moved away, the woman looked up, spotting Azrael.

“I’m sorry. The Father’s sermon is over.” A hint of anger resonated in her voice – Azrael knew that emotion very well.

“I didn’t mean to disturb you, I just…” 

What was she supposed to say? _Hi, I’m a fallen angel. God cast me out because I wouldn’t let a human die. Please help me?_ No, they would think she was insane. And she had plenty of experience watching how humans treated others they thought crazy.

“I need help. I’m lost, and have nowhere to go.”

“He told me you were coming,” the shirtless man the others seemed to be protecting rose, and stepped towards Azrael, “told me He had no choice but to force you out.”

Azrael looked at him, confused. She knew she recognised him, but after millennia of guiding souls to heaven and hell, she had difficulty placing where exactly she knew him from.

“He had a choice,” She stood confidently, ignoring the brawny man stood beside her, eyeing her up like a piece of meat, “there is always a choice. I made mine, and He made His.”

“What did you do to invoke such wrath from God himself?”

“I saved someone’s life. Someone who’s time was up long ago.”

“And he cast you out. For that?” Azrael shifted nervously at his words, unsure of how much danger she was in. “You’re safe here. Trust me, you can share you true identity with my siblings. I already know who you are.”

His words somehow soothed her, calmed her from a burning fire she didn’t realise had ignited within her.

“And He really wants you to help _me_? A fallen angel?”

“All He did was inform me of your arrival.”

“Hang on, a fallen angel? You want us to believe this woman is an-”

The slim figure emerged from behind the shirtless one and stopped dead in his tracks when he locked eyes with Azrael. She could feel those blue eyes boring into hers, filled with hope once more, like they used to be. And she smiled. For the first time in a long time, she smiled.

“John?”

He looked startled, shocked, as if he’d seen a ghost. Which wasn’t too far from the truth, she supposed. He had been seeing her all his life. Sometimes she was across the street, watching him. Others, she was by his side. More often than he would like to admit, he dreamt of her. She looked… smaller than usual. Frail, lost. And he had never seen the earthy hues of her brown eyes reflect such despair.

He, on the other hand, looked happy. Happier than she had even seen him. She could see that he finally felt at home, a feeling unfamiliar to him, until now. She was struck by his handsome features, as she was every time she laid eyes on him. His ocean eyes drew her in, and she gazed upon those pools of cerulean, his perfectly trimmed beard, his…

Was that a scar across his chest?

“You… you know my brother?” the shirtless man asked cautiously, trying to pull Azrael’s attention back to him, attempting in vain to bring an end to the way they stared at each other with a burning curiosity.

“He’s the one, the soul I’ve been saving his whole life.”


End file.
